Before - Legends Weighed In Blood (Collab with Jinngerbread) OCs, dark, drama Updated 10-7

Title: Weighed In Blood
Author(s): Jinngerbread and Neon Star
Summary: The uprising of a new crime organization upon the sins of a galaxy that will pay in blood for it.
Characters: Mostly original characters.
Authors Notes: Dark, dark, dark....Hmm, don't think I care to say otherwise. Though there will be more than that in it.
As always, we hope you enjoy and feel free to comment.

He was back. It had been a while, just a little since he had been. Things hadn?t changed, just as they never had. Not in a thousand years, not in tens of thousands. The Daylings still mulled just beneath the surface of the living, the Night children still claimed mastery of the depths below. The Mother still dwelled in her shadows.

And he was in the lowest part, deep within the bowels of the Hidden City, where only the truly dead lay. These corpses contained no life, not even the false one he bore in himself.

Dead.

Gone.

Dust.

Especially his one. The one who had been buried in the darkest part, drowned in dust and death.

The path was familiar to him; he traveled it every time he came. All for that one.

Finding the door to the tomb, he settled himself beside it, touching the cold stone, heart clenching tight for a brief, painful moment. He wanted to cry, to beg, to scream.

But that hadn?t worked the first few times. Why would it now?

?Hello, love. Sleeping well?? he leaned close, pressing against the chill like it was a lover, rather then what kept him from his, ?I hope not. I hope you?ve seen what I?ve been doing lately.?

He chuckled a little, bitterly, pressing closer still, what little body heat, stolen from a hundred lives, seeping out into that stone, ?I hope you see what I?m doing. I?ve destroyed the last one. It was getting too unstable. That happens when you bank on the evil of the galaxy; it eats itself alive after a while. But don?t worry; I?ll just build it again, like the last time, and the time before. Always better, because the galaxy is constantly getting darker, more deadly. People are greedy, sick; mortals don?t care for each other, just themselves. They lust and crave and desire. They have little care for what gets in the way. They murder, rob, lie, it?s their nature, and I exploit it, build upon it, allow them to be themselves within the playgrounds I create,? his fingers caressed over the surface, ?So much done, they destroy civilizations with their drugs, their slavery, their ignorance. You give the tools, and they would destroy the galaxy and themselves.?

His voice dipped, coming from its sultry lilt, down into an almost dead tone, ?That is what you wanted to protect, to save. Destructive, stupid mortals that know nothing and kill what they do not understand. Even your precious Jedi, those higher than thou fools. They may think themselves pure, but the darkness has touched even them, left them afraid of themselves, of feelings, of anything but duty. Divan would cry if he had lived to see this,? his fist clenched, ?Why did you try to save them? They didn?t deserve you, not you or your soul. They deserved nothing that you gave; they shouldn?t have cost you your sanity,? his teeth gritted, ?You should be here.?


His fist hit hard, crumbling rock, but not even close to piercing through, it too thick for one punch. He clung to the stone, nails biting in, as he pressed his face to it, while his tears slide slowly down his cheeks to it, blood red with a thousand lives, ?With me, stopping me, saving me,? he sobbed, heart dying in his chest, ?Why were they worth it, and I was not?! Here I am, creating madness, being madness, bearing it, dying to it, and all you cared about was them!?

A cry was surging up, forcing past barriers, burning through controls and a thousand things out as he shattered the surface under his hands, ?Curse you! Curse you and this galaxy! I?ll break it to pieces, destroy every bit of it, kill every part! All with its own evil and its own hate! I?ll do it just to show you that they were not worth it and never will be! Divan tried and lost himsel

 

WOW!
AMAZING!
MORE!
And maybe a PM.
WOWWY WOW WOW!
So painful and expressive.
Who is that worriable guy?

 

Dark very dark!
But oh so intriguing.

Excellent beginning.

More
Please
More

 

This was so deep...
it kinda tapped up my phobias.
I'm afraid of the dark.
(not really, I think)
MORE MORE MORE MORE!

 

Mmmmm...

Holding his breath, this one is. The price of unresolved grief is taking lives, instead of getting one.

Let it out and let it in
hey, Jude, begin ...

Very intriguing. Will love to see where you take this from here.

 

mujapple-juicey: You'll find out soon enough who that guy is. We totally strive for such, so thanks for thinking it is.

XANl: Glad you believe it was. And we can certainly give more.

ratna: That he is, and that it is. Thank you for that, and we hope to keep you intrested.

**************
It was unexpected. One minute, the meeting was going as expected, perhaps a little boring despite the talk of slavery, murder, and the shift of power.

It was almost pathetic, how Crimson had fallen. All their power, the fear they had once inspired, was not even half of what had once been when the crime sect had been at its strength.

No one knew how it had crumbled, how it had dissolved so quickly, only that its backbone had deserted it. The Boss had simply left them to fall apart.

But the reigning thought, for this one small group, which still held to whatever piece of Crimson that was left, was that they would not die.

And it had been that that they had been focused on when the door had opened, and the guards that had been standing in front of them collapsed in, both throats ripped clean out, though little blood escaped the bodies. Their massive tails still twitched in death, testifying on quickly death had come.

And that death was standing there, pale as dawn, and as terrible, blood staining his perfect lips thickly, running down the corners. His hands were gore covered, the remains of those throats clinging to that doll like flesh.

He seemed not more than sixteen, a mere human in a den of vipers, but any could tell he wasn't human, from the fangs that glinted in his quick smile, all teeth, to the unnatural glow of his eyes, fed with blood lust. Clad in silk, black as the death he had caused, he could not have been more like some vicious angel, sent to bring judgment on them all. He stepped over the bodies, barefooted, the silk pants clinging and shifting with him as he did, "Good day, gentlebeings."

There wasn't a sound in the room, as he strode towards them. The talking had come to a halt, with the entrance of this being. No one moved or spoke as the deadly brunette finally stopped at their conference table.

It wasn't often that those of this meeting were rendered shocked. Each having many sins and bloodstains on their own hands could not be surprised by a mere boy, but this was no mere boy.

The mere fact that he had gained entrance to their chamber proved that.

"And you are?" finally, one stood among them.

Licking the blood from his lips, he sauntered to the table, and set his hands upon the slick surface, looking at each as he studied them around him, "Nice to see you survived, Ten'tek. As for myself, you know who I am, even if you don't know my face. Crimson's death was rather bloody, wasn't it?"

Ten'tek's eyes narrowed the barest bit, "It was," he agreed, finally moving to make room for him at the table. "Care to join us?"

"Sir," one of the younger bosses moved to protest, standing, "Why are you inviting this...this..." he glanced at the intruder, and paled, seeing the other look at him intently, as if he were his next meal.

Ten'tek fixed him with a thoughtful gaze. "Are you questioning my judgment, Jolak?" The query was soft, and sounded almost light-hearted.

The other's eyes wavered, lowering as he swallowed, tail twitching, "Of course not, Sir. It?s just...Who is this?"

Ten'tek moved from his chair to slowly slither towards the newcomer, stopping at Jolak's chair. "Perhaps you should ask him, yourself," his tone was soft, as he had bent to the other's face, a nice reminder of who held all the cards.

Another swallow, "I just ask for the sake of us all, as you seem the only one to know," he gestured to the others gathered.

"Perhaps you are right," Ten'tek appeared to consider after a moment, the tail going around Jolak's neck, he squeezed the barest bit, before letting go.

"Jolak is correct," Another stood, this one human. "What right does this boy have to be here??

There was an impatient murmur of agreement, and Ten?

 

That is so dark and scary and nightmarish.
Poor Meran.
Hope they have muffins for him in heaven.
Poison, deadly dude.
More!

tapping fish
wrong

 

mujapple-juicey: Well, personally not terribly concerned with Meran. One should not mess with Poison afterall. Thanks.

Just a little note, though it's a bit late, there will be no post this week. We will hopefully be back to normal updates by next week.

 

OK, I'll try to bear it calm, but I accept this with despair.
I'm sensitive to deaths of almost innocent lumps.

tapping fish
wo

 

[image=http://i255.photobucket.com/albums/hh134/creep_emo666/emo-boy.jpg]

an emo boy who can actually do what his mind is thinking

very scary

 

ratna: I know, and it's only going to get worse.
************



He stretched, lazily watching as the water rippled with his movements, while the almost scalding bath steamed around him. Murmuring in pleasure, he looked up to his companion who was sitting near the edge, and reached out, running his dripping hand over the other's scales, "How warm am I, dearest?"

"Warmer than you have been in months," the other replied idly. He smiled slightly. "Enjoying it?"

Those deep green eyes sparked, "Very much. I haven't felt this full since we left home," he licked his lips a little, "And heating all that blood inside....perfect."

The other?s eyes twinkled at that, pleased at seeing him happy. "So what is on the agenda for the rest of the day?" he asked, dipping his tail in the bath water, amused at the temperature level of it. He drew the tail out again. He preferred cooler water, personally.

"I'm going to let them have time to think. It'll help cut out the weak," Poison smirked, "I'll have quite the meal then. Whatever stays, I'll move forward with by the end of the week. The other groups should be far easier as news of the blood bath spreads."

Karchin nodded. "At least you'll have a decent meal then. Then maybe you'll share," he teased.

The false boy reached out his hand again, teasing his way down his child's tail, "I'd gladly share now. It's rare that you would get warm blood."

He shook his head. "I don't want to take away what you've only recently gained. I can wait awhile longer."

That almost prompted a pout, "You make me feel like a bad parent, Kar." Though, if he stopped to think about it, he was in a way. He'd left his oldest at home, but it had been to keep her company.

Karchin shook his head. "Far from,? he protested, "I merely want you to enjoy your warmth."

"Then come here and let me share. I'll enjoy it all the more," dust colored eyelashes fluttered a bit.

"Are you sure?" he bent down closer to him. The idea of warm blood was interesting to him.

"Very," the other tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck through wet brown strands, inviting.

Karchin bent down and bit in carefully, easily. The warmth of the blood was sweet and he closed his eyes a bit, savoring the uniqueness of the taste. Poison often didn't taste like this, even if his blood was sweeter than most others, it normally wasn't warm and that added an extra element to things. Eventually he pulled away, not wishing to drain his Lord of the meal he'd just had.
Moaning a bit, the immortal leaned his head back, to smile up at his child, "So nice. You're so gentle, Karchin."

Karchin glanced at him slyly. "Not always."

A vague chuckle there, "Your violence is equally appreciated and needed soon. That fool probably believes himself to be my second, when it will be you in the shadows who is."

"I will look forward to it," Karchin said, smirking. And he would. The fool deserved to die for that mistake. None could take his place as second.

"We'll need and use him for now though. The others fear him, and trust him where they do not me. He was a big time boss when Crimson was active, if I recall," Poison mused.

Karchin looked faintly disappointed, but frowned thoughtfully. "True enough," he admitted.

"Patience, love," Poison cooed, noting his disappointment, "We however may not need to kill him, really. Once we get started, I'll slip into the shadows, and you may be my head. It'll free me to play among the mortals."

"Something you'll dearly have fun doing, no doubt," playing head sounded like fun. He had done it once before.

"Terribly. Hard to eat and harder still to keep track of things when stuck in the place of a god," a flash of those sharp teeth, "This... Organization will be my finest creation. Not even the Jedi will be able to unravel it this time," such as Crimson had, though it had been in its dying days.

Karchin was thoughtful. "They will try," he said knowingly.

"And we will be more than ready," Poison assured, "They're easy to predict."

Karchin snorted

 

Chilly, chilly , chilly!
Oma, what are they planning!
Gah, nightmares ahoy!

tapping fish

 

mujapple-juicey You'll just have to wait and see what they're planning.

Eris entered on her father's arm, surveying the scene before her.

The party was a formal affair, with only those closest to her father in attendance. There were some twenty or so guests in all, to this event. This event he and one called Poison were hosting. She scanned the crowd, and her gaze rested on a boy looking no more than sixteen-years-old, her age, perfect hair, and skin, and crimson lips. His previous name, indeed, had been Crimson. He looked Perfect.

Too Perfect.

Her father smiled upon reaching the boy. "Poison," he greeted, "I do not believe you have met my daughter, Eris."

Those vivid green eyes flickered over her, while a slow smile slipped over his lips, "Not face to face. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, dear lady," gently, and with pure grace, he touched her hand, bringing it to his lips in such an old fashioned expression as he half bowed over it.

She did not show her surprise even at the old-fashioned gesture. "And you, " she inclined her head. "Charmed."

"I believe you are mistaken on who is truly charmed," Poisoned purred, releasing her as he straightened.

She did arch a brow at that as she pulled away. "Am I?"

"Yes, because it is certainly I by you," a purely winning smile, as Poison glanced to his second, "You do have a very beautiful daughter."

"Thank you," her father replied graciously, taking a wine glass from a passing server. They were not droid servants, here but rather slaves. Slaves of those high up. "I've been grooming her to become my successor when the time is right."

"Hopefully that will be quite some time, though she does seem intelligent enough for such a task," again, a flicker of those eyes, up and down.

"Indeed, hopefully so, " Eris said smoothly with a glance at her father. She did not wish to lose him. He was good to her, far better than many would have been in this business.

"Well, morbid thoughts aside, it seems I should honor my manners and ask you to a dance, dear lady," Poison offered his hand

She surveyed him again and after only a moment nodded. "I would be glad to accept." She took his hand.

He led her out onto the dance floor, before pausing. Placing his hands in the appropriate spots, he allowed her to settled as they waited for the next song, just about to start.

She moved to the music as it started, letting him lead, falling into step easily despite her species. Her long tail was tucked up under her dress so as to not hamper her movement. His hands were cold, she noted, more so than most men.

His grip tightened a little, "Did you enjoy the show, milady?" it was mild, casual.

She knew what he was referring to. That display of him snapping his bones the other day had been more than disturbing. "It was most, interesting," she replied coolly.

"And unnatural."

He leaned in close, cold breath brushing her cheek, "You'll find a lot of things about me are unnatural."

"Is that so?" she breathed. Except it wasn't breath like normal people. His wasn't. His chest, she noted, was not rising and falling as most would have, nor was he appearing to have any exertion from dancing.

"Perhaps you can figure out why?" he pressed all the closer, skin like marble gliding over hers for a moment, stone strong despite how soft it seemed.

She considered, taking it all in. The unnatural lack of breath, the cold hands...the fact that he had been Crimson before being Poison now, she was mentally tallying the pieces together. "You're immortal," she figured out after a moment.

She had heard of the immortals once, when she'd been just a bit younger, she'd come across them in a search in their databases, and had looked up what little was known on the Holonet. Immortals were on the moons of Iego, it was said, and they were some of the most beautiful creatures in the entire universe. There were two species of them, both the Living and the Dead. And this one, judging by the coldness...and other attributes...likely was one of the Dead. Living,

 

Even though I've only read the first entry, Jinngerbread told me I was to post and say that I'm in the process of reading so you know I'm here.

It's really good so far, and once I catchup I'll either edit this or post snd tell you that again.

Edit: Oh. My. Stars. This is really creepy, and yet I can't pull myself away. If I have nightmares I blame you peoples.

Update reeeeeeeally quick!

 

I can see an immortal being bored enough that only passion, the fear, the thrills, the drugs, sex, and slavery combined with cold blooded killing and assassinations, ... lived on the fringe of the galaxy, at the behest of madmen will satisfy. But this mortal girl is playing a dangerous game. BTW any images to help us visualize the characters, since I take it that the girl is not human ...?